


Rebuilding what can't be repaired

by kawuli



Series: We thought we lost you (Welcome back) [4]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, District 2, District 6, Found Family, Gen, being family is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 06:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12359325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawuli/pseuds/kawuli
Summary: Rokia's sisters come to live in District Two--but not with her. She left, and they survived, but there's no going back to who they were before. Heidi and Marc never thought they'd have more kids, but two lost little girls need a home, and their not-so-little sister needs a family too.





	1. How to be a family

**Author's Note:**

> When I first started chatting with [lorata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorata) I was trying to figure out how to give the Diarra girls a happy postwar ending--because I needed to know they'd be okay before I could write all of the horrible stuff that comes before. She suggested Brutus' parents should take Allie and Kadi, and then this happened.

Rokia’s still not exactly sure how it happened, what negotiations happened behind which doors to let two refugee kids from Six come live with the parents of a Two Victor, but there she is, standing on the platform waiting for her sisters to get off the train.

They climb down together, Allie’s arm protective around Kadi’s shoulders, and stop when they see Rokia, standing on the platform next to Lyme. Kadi runs to her and wraps her arms around Rokia’s waist. She’s taller, Rokia thinks. Allie, has grown too, all long limbed awkwardness. When Rokia kissed her goodbye at the reaping for the 75th she was ten years old, a child for all she acted grown up and serious. She’s twelve now and still a child but old enough to resent being called one. She’s holding herself apart, angry and scowling and hiding how frightened she is from everyone but Rokia. Rokia disentangles herself from Kadi and hugs Allie, who relents a little to hug her back. The tension stays in her back and shoulders, and she smiles a little but her eyes are hard.

It’s Brutus who’s going with them, not Lyme, and Rokia knows Brutus a little bit and she knows he’s not as scary as he looks but he’s still intimidating and he’s still inviting her sisters to stay with his parents and the whole thing is just too weird for words. So the train ride down would be unbearably awkward except that Kadi seems oblivious to all of it, holding tight to Rokia’s hand and telling her about the train, about everything she saw from the window and the crew who let her into the control room and the food and everything else, while Allie looks out the window, silent, and Brutus watches them, face unreadable. It’s a long hour down to the quarry town where Brutus grew up, where his parents still live, and the town thins out and the sky opens up and it tugs at old, buried memories, rough, small houses crowded around potholed streets, dust and mismatched shingles and peeling paint, cool even though they’re edging into summer.

The train pulls into the station, calls last stop and Brutus shifts, gets to his feet, looks at Rokia. She forces herself to meet his gaze, to stand up, trying not to wish the train ride would go on just a little longer so she didn’t have to face this yet. Turns to Kadi and reaches to take her hand. Brutus glances among the three of them.

“Come on,” he says, looking at Allie, who’s still wearing that stubborn defiance Rokia recognizes from her own face, still covering up the fear. Brutus smiles at Allie, softer than Rokia’s seen. “Don’t worry,” he says, “they won’t bite.”

Allie rolls her eyes but her shoulders relax a little and she follows him out, Rokia and Kadi coming along behind.

Allie walks next to Brutus as they make their way through the streets, and Rokia, holding Kadi’s hand, sees him pointing out who knows what landmarks. The quarry town’s nestled close up into the mountains, and it’s dusty and poor but there’s no bomb craters or bullet holes in the walls, no sign the war ever got this far and that’s a relief. Finally Brutus knocks on the door of one of the houses, warm light in the windows.He doesn’t wait for an answer before pushing the door open, but there’s a woman standing in the doorway before they have a chance to step inside.

She’s smiling, fond, broad and tall like Brutus himself and Rokia can see the resemblance not just in her features but in the way she holds herself, like she can take anything the world sees fit to throw at her and pitch it all right back.

“Hi Ma,” Brutus says, giving her a hug and stepping aside. “The girls are here.”

Allie tucks her hair back and steps forward. “Alima Diarra” she says, polite, before Brutus can introduce her. “Pleased to meet you.” She puts out a hand to shake and Heidi takes it, a smile playing around her eyes.

“Well hello, Miss Alima. I’m Heidi.”

Rokia moves forward, carefully, since Kadi’s pressed up close against her. “I’m Rokia,” she says, trying to make it sound relaxed, “and this is Kadi. Kadidia,” she adds, since Allie gave her full name, and she realizes she’s not sure if they even use the old nicknames anymore. Kadi’s looking up at Heidi, brown eyes wide. Allie slants a glare towards her and she straightens up. “Pleased to meet you,” she says, so quiet it’s almost a whisper, and puts out her hand too.

Heidi crouches down so she’s at Kadi’s level. “That’s a pretty name, Kadidia,” she says, taking Kadi’s hand in both of hers. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Kadi looks from Heidi to Rokia, cautious, and smiles a little. “Thank you,” she says.

Heidi stands up, puts a hand on Rokia’s shoulder. “You too,” she says, smiling. “Come in, I’ll show you around.”

“This is you girls’ room,” Heidi says, opening a door and stepping back. Allie walks in first and Kadi follows, letting go of Rokia’s hand for the first time since coming into the house.

“This was my room, when I was a kid.” Brutus says, quiet. Rokia looks up at him, surprised. He’s smiling, watching the girls looking out the window, climbing onto the bed. He glances down at her, then over at Heidi. Rokia looks away. The girls finish their tour of the room and come back, waiting to see what’s next. Heidi’s smiling as she looks around, but it’s a little sad at the same time. “Good to get some use out of it,” she says.

They get back to the living room just as the door’s opening again. Brutus grins and walks over to the door in three long strides. His dad come in, sets down his lunch pail and turns. He and Brutus look at each other for a long moment and Brutus hugs him close.

They separate, turn back to the room and Marc’s smile broadens. “Well, who do we have here?” he asks.

Brutus introduces them each in turn. “Alima and Kadidia, and Rokia.”

Marc comes up to them, shakes Rokia’s hand, then Allie’s, then drops down to say hello to Kadi, who’s back to pressing close against Rokia’s side. “Hi Katydid,” he says, smiling.

Allie glares at him for a second before schooling her face back to something polite. “It’s Kadidia. Or, people call her Kadi sometimes.”

Marc looks up at her. “Sure, but you know what a Katydid is?”

Allie shakes her head.

“It’s a bug. Sings real loud in the summer.” He looks back at Kadi. “Do you sing, Katydid?” Kadi smiles a little, shakes her head. “That’s a shame,” he says, but the smile stays put, “We’ll have to teach you some songs. Can’t have a Katydid that doesn’t sing.”

Kadi giggles, then glances up at Rokia, eyes big and questioning. Rokia smiles back, runs a hand over Kadi’s hair.

They sit at the table together, big bowls of soup and hearty rolls fresh from the oven. After dinner Brutus hugs his parents and both of the girls, claps Rokia on the shoulder. “Thank you,” she says, quiet.

Brutus’ mouth quirks up at the corner. “You’re welcome,” he says, and heads out to catch the last train back up to the Village.

 

Heidi offers to take the girls upstairs to bed. Allie looks like she wants to protest, but when she notices Kadi’s yawns and sleepy eyes she relents. Rokia trails after them, just in case, but she’s not needed here—Heidi helps Kadi find her pajamas while Allie sifts through her duffel for her own. When they hug Rokia goodnight she holds them close as long as she can—Kadi eventually squirms away and Allie goes stiff so Rokia releases them. They’re _here_ , really here, and she can barely make herself believe it.

Afterwards Heidi follows her downstairs where they make up the couch for Rokia.

Heidi watches her. “They missed you,” she says.

Rokia’s glad for the sheets in her hands so she doesn’t have to look up. “I missed them,” she says, “I’m just—I’m glad they’re okay.” She smooths the sheet down, glances over at Heidi. “Thank you for taking them,” she says, “I don’t have a place of my own, and—with work and all, it’s not—“ she stops. There’s no point making excuses.

“Oh, we’re glad to have them,” Heidi says, “Really, it’s no trouble.”

Rokia smiles a little at that. “You don’t know that yet.”

Heidi looks over at her. “I know it’s nothing we can’t handle,” she says.

Rokia would protest, but this is Brutus’ mom, after all.

“Well, it’s—just, thanks, I guess.” She used to be better at this, talking to people, but she’s out of practice in the long months since she’s been back to the Capitol.

Heidi seems to understand though, just tucks the last corner of the sheet and says, “There, I hope that’ll be okay.”

Rokia nods. “I’ve had a whole lot worse,” she says, absently.

Heidi’s smile flickers a little before she answers. “Well anyway, you let me know if you need anything.”

“No, this is fine. Thanks.”

 

The house is quiet once everyone’s in bed, but Rokia can’t sleep. There’s bugs singing outside and the house makes the occasional creaking sound as the wind shifts, and every once in a while a car goes past or a train whistle wails in the distance. It’s not unpleasant, exactly, lying awake here, but eventually Rokia gets restless. She grabs her pillow and a blanket, pulls her datapad from her bag, and walks carefully, mindful of the creaking wood. The door to the girls’ room is closed, but it opens almost silently and she slips in.

She shuts the door behind her and leans against it, watching her sisters sleep. For all that they’re taller, they still sleep tangled together, Allie’s arm over Kadi’s shoulders. They’ve slept like that since Kadi was old enough to sleep through the night, Allie protecting her even in her sleep. Rokia sinks down to lean against the door and pulls up her latest schematics. She works for a while, glancing up every now and then to reassure herself the girls are still safe, still here. Finally she puts the datapad away and curls up with her back against the door. It’s familiar—from when Allie was four or five, the last time she’d let Mom decide where they lived. It had been a nice place, newer and cleaner than most of their arrangements, except that the guy on the lease was selling out of it, cooking up who knows what in the kitchen, strangers in and out at all hours. They’d stayed for six months until Rokia got the money to move them somewhere else and Rokia slept nights in front of the door just in case.

 

She wakes in the grey dawn, fragments of dreams falling away before she catches her breath. The girls have shifted but they’re still sleeping, so Rokia gathers up her things and slips out.

There’s a light on in the kitchen, where Heidi’s putting a kettle on. Rokia hesitates, then walks in. Heidi turns as she comes through the doorway.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning,” Rokia replies, “you’re up early.”

Heidi chuckles a little. “30-some years of being at work by 6, it’s habit now.” She looks over at Rokia. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I’m fine,” Rokia says, trying not to yawn.

“Sure you are,” Heidi says, easily, “You want some tea? Or coffee? Brutus brought some, he said you like it.”

“Coffee would be great,” Rokia says, “it’s nice of Brutus to think of it.”

Heidi sighs, “He’s like that,” she says, “and we don’t usually get it down here so he knew he ought to bring some.”

Rokia’s startled by how spoiled she’s gotten, demanding things people might not have, but she makes a note to thank Brutus. She didn’t realize he knew she needed at least one good strong cup of coffee before managing most human interaction.

“Can I help with something?” Rokia asks.

“Nah, just perch somewhere, I’m making oatmeal.”

Heidi hands her a mug and Rokia cups it in her hands, letting the heat warm her chilly fingers. Heidi’s stirring the oatmeal when Marc comes in. He smiles and winks at Rokia, then walks up behind Heidi and puts his arms around her. She leans back and rests her head against his shoulder, then turns to kiss him. It’s relaxed, easy, and Rokia doesn’t know quite what to make of it. She smiles, a little embarrassed, and sips at her coffee to hide her face.

 

Allie comes in as they’re finishing their breakfast and stops suddenly when she sees them at the table. Her eyes go wide and she stammers out an apology.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what time it was—I can go get Kadi—“

Rokia bites her tongue to hide her anger. This, whatever this is, Allie never learned from her. Heidi glances at Rokia, curious, then smiles at Allie and gets to her feet.

“Don’t worry Miss Alima, we thought we’d let you sleep,” she says, voice easy as she walks into the kitchen to fetch a bowl. “You like oatmeal?”

Allie’s breath catches for a second, she swallows and says “Yes, ma’am.” Pauses again, “Can I help?”

Heidi laughs, “You girls are sure sweet, but I think I can manage oatmeal. Just sit. You want tea? Coffee?”

“Tea, please,” Allie sits gingerly across from Marc, next to the spot Heidi’s vacated. She glances over at Rokia, looks around the room uneasily.

“Good morning, Alima,” Marc says, leaning back and smiling at her. “How’d you sleep.”

“Fine, thank you,” Allie says, and Marc laughs.

“Well, good,” he says, “I hope it was okay, sharing the bed—we can get new ones made.”

Allie shrugs. “It’s okay. We’re used to sharing.”

 

Allie’s finishing her breakfast when a shriek from the bedroom startles all of them. Rokia’s on her feet moving before she has time to think, walking in to see Kadi sitting on the edge of the bed, tears running down her cheeks.

Rokia sits next to her and Kadi crawls into her lap, holding tight around Rokia’s neck and sobbing. Rokia rubs her back, rocks a little until she quiets.

“Everyone was gone,” Kadi gets out, her voice small and shaky “I didn’t know where we were and you left and I was all by myself.”

Rokia’s heart breaks all over again and she hugs her sister tight. “I’m here, it’s okay, you’re safe,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady. “You’re safe here.”

She looks up. Allie’s standing in the doorway watching, fists clenched at her sides, Heidi and Marc a little ways behind.

“C’mere, Allie,” she says, lifting one hand from Kadi’s back to offer to Allie.

Allie shakes her head. “I’m fine,” she says. “I shouldn’t have left her on her own, she hates that.”

Kadi lifts her head from Rokia’s shoulder and looks over at Allie. “Please?” she asks.

Allie’s shoulders slump, and she walks over and sits down next to them. She takes Kadi’s hand, rubs her fingers over the knuckles. “I’m sorry, Kadi,” she says. “I’m not gonna leave you.” She glances up at Rokia. “Not ever.”

Kadi shifts, finally, pulling her hand away from Allie’s and wiping her face. She slides down to her feet and Rokia smiles and brushes Kadi’s hair away from her face. Kadi turns, then, finally sees Heidi and Marc. She flinches back toward Rokia.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I—I just got scared.”

“It’s okay, babygirl,” Heidi says, “Do you want to come have some oatmeal now?”

Kadi’s face lights up. “We haven’t had real oatmeal since—“ She breaks off, glances back at Rokia, “Since Rokia left.”

“Well,” Marc says, “Then it’s about time.” He holds out his hand, and Kadi takes it. Heidi follows them.

Allie looks at Rokia then, eyes blazing. “You don’t get to do that anymore,” she says.

“Do what?” Rokia asks.

“Hold her, tell her everything’s going to be _okay_ , that she’s—you _left_ us, you didn’t tell us anything, you abandoned us to go save the world or some shit, you don’t get to act like everything’s _fine_.”

“Allie, I—“

“And don’t call me that anymore, I’m not a kid.”

“I’m sorry, Alima, I had to—“

“You had to what? That’s bullshit, we’re family. She needed you and you just disappeared. We didn’t even know you were alive until you started showing up on the stupid television.” Allie’s yelling now, and Rokia feels every word like a punch to the gut.

“I couldn’t call you, they’d find you! I didn’t—“ Rokia takes a deep breath. She’s shaking, but she has to keep her voice steady. “I didn’t know where you were, I was trying to find you for _months_ , I—“

“OK, whatever.” Allie says, and she’s not yelling anymore but this is worse. “You’re so important but you couldn’t take care of your own family. That’s great.”

“I—I don’t know what to tell you, Ali—Alima, I’m so sorry, I love you, I never wanted to—“

Allie’s glaring at her. “Shut up! God, you are so full of shit, I _hate_ you.”

Rokia fell off the scaffolding in the shop once and landed flat on her back. For an agonizing second she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get her lungs to work, and that’s what this feels like. She’s frozen in place and it’s long seconds before she’s able to say anything at all.

“Alima,” she says, and her voice cracks despite her best efforts, “I am so sorry."

“Yeah well, that’s great. Why don’t you go back to whatever important shit you were doing for the last two _years_ and leave me alone.”

And with that Allie walks out of the room and slams the door.

 

Rokia’s frozen in place, staring at the door. She doesn’t know how long it’s been when Heidi comes in and sits next to her.

Rokia turns, presses her fingertips into her eyes, and forces her face into a smile. “I’m sorry,” she says, “Allie’s just—she’s upset. She’s not usually like that.” Rokia bites her lip. Who is she to say, though, what Allie’s like now, a lot can change in two years.

“Oh, Rokia, you don’t have to apologize,” Heidi says, her voice soft and understanding and Rokia’s eyes are drawn to her face, where there’s no condemnation, no anger, just sadness and something fond. “She’ll come around.” Heidi hesitates, then puts a hand to Rokia’s shoulder, squeezing a little. “I came in because I was worried about you, though, babygirl.”

Rokia’s breath catches and she takes deep, careful breaths and pushes the memories back. She looks up, sidelong, at Heidi, not trusting herself not to give too much away. “I’m okay,” she says. “She’s got a right to be pissed.”

“Maybe so,” Heidi says, neutral, “but she didn’t need to put it on you like that. We know you did the best you could.”

That pulls something like a laugh out of Rokia. “Yeah,” she says, “sure.” She swallows, curls her hands tight, digging her fingernails hard into her palms. The pinpricks of pain, a few lungfuls of air, and she can look up at Heidi. “It’s fine,” she says, a little more convincing this time. “Let’s go.”

Heidi looks at her, considering, then gets up. “Marc took the girls out, thought he’d show them around a bit. I was thinking I’d make bread if you want to help. Brutus brought some things down with him.”

Rokia’s never made bread, but she follows Heidi into the kitchen anyway. “Sure,” she says, “why not?”

 

It’s relaxing, actually, mixing and kneading the dough, pulling out rolls and filling baking sheets. It’s hot in the kitchen, but Rokia doesn’t mind and Heidi doesn’t seem to, and they don’t talk much but it’s comfortable.

Marc and the girls come back for supper. Kadi’s grinning hugely and chattering about the mountains and the quarries and the gardens, and Allie smiles at her, fond, and only goes quiet when she looks at Rokia. They linger over dinner, Marc telling stories to make Kadi laugh, and even Allie smiles a bit. It’s strangely comfortable, just sitting around the table and talking. Kadi tells a few stories about Six, the time she and Allie and their cousin made a fort out of shop scraps, the time Rokia built them a pedal-car they could all ride in together and they got lost on the way from the shop to the Victors’ Village. They’re bittersweet stories now to Rokia, and Allie’s smiles are a little sad, too, but they’re from home and Rokia’s glad Kadi can still laugh about them.

Finally Rokia helps Heidi clean up in the kitchen while Allie and Kadi get ready for bed, Marc keeping an ear out for trouble. Heidi keeps shooting her concerned glances that Rokia pretends she doesn’t see. It’s awkward the way it wasn’t earlier, the silence weighing heavy and close, but Rokia doesn’t know what to say.

Allie comes to the kitchen as they’re finishing up, Kadi close behind her. Heidi goes over and hugs them each in turn, saying goodnight and stroking their hair. Kadi hugs Rokia then, and Rokia’s throat is tight but she bends to kiss Kadi’s head and say “I love you.”

Kadi looks up, smiling softly. “I love you too,” she says, hugs Rokia close again, then steps back. “Goodnight.”

Rokia turns to Allie, then stops when Allie steps back. “Goodnight, Rokia,” Allie says, arms crossed over her chest.

“Goodnight,” Rokia echoes. “Sleep well.” Allie turns and Kadi follows her out.

Rokia sighs, turns back to wiping down the counters.

“She’ll get past it,” Heidi says. “It’ll be okay.”

Rokia just nods, not trusting her voice.

They finish up in the kitchen and Rokia turns to Heidi. “I think I should go, tomorrow,” she says. “Allie doesn’t want me around, and Kadi doesn’t need me, and I’m just making things worse.”

Heidi looks her in the eye, long enough to be disconcerting, before Rokia looks away. “Well,” she says, “I’m not so sure what’s best, for them or for you.” She stops, considering. “Maybe you’re right. But you know you’re always welcome here.” Rokia looks back up at her, searching, but she’s being honest.

“Thanks,” she says, looking away, “and—“ she looks back, “Really, thanks for all of this.” She forces herself to keep looking Heidi in the eye as she says it, and there’s still no condemnation, nothing to suggest a debt owed, Heidi’s just smiling at her like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

 

It’s not until everyone’s asleep that Rokia curls up into a tight ball on the couch and lets herself cry, tears falling silently onto the sheets, shoulders shaking. Allie’s right, is the thing, it cuts her to the bone because it’s true: she left them alone and went off to fight and sure, it means Allie won’t have to stand in the Reaping square in a few weeks, Rokia won’t ever have to sit on the stage with her heart in her throat wondering if she’s been good enough to delay the President’s punishment one more year. One less nightmare to keep her awake, but at what cost? If she had to abandon her family, if she had to get people killed for it, was it worth the price? Who did she think she was to decide for them?

The tears subside and Rokia uncoils, but there’s no chance she’ll sleep anytime soon. She’s not sure she should risk sneaking into the girls’ room again but she can’t help herself—it’s been so long since she’s been able to get that reassurance, to see them and hear their sleep-soft breathing and know, really _know_ that they’re okay. So she sits, keeping watch even though there’s no threat, watching the curtains flutter in the window and digging into the most esoteric design problems she can pull up to keep from replaying Allie’s voice hissing in her head.

She hears Heidi get up, the door creaking just slightly, and slips out just as the siren wails, off in the distance like a train whistle. The girls shift, Kadi shifting closer to Allie, but they don’t wake up, and Rokia watches them for a second before going downstairs.

Heidi doesn’t ask how she slept, just looks her up and down and smiles ruefully. “You look like you could use a cup of coffee,” she says, and puts the kettle on. “Go sit,” she says, back to Rokia,“I got this.”

Rokia would protest, but she’s tired, and it’s nice having someone take care of her like this. Mothering her, she thinks, with a twist of a smile. Heidi looks nothing like her grandmother but something in her eyes, her smile, is similar enough to make Rokia’s breath catch sometimes, and when she brings over a steaming cup with a sad smile Rokia has to duck her head to keep from doing something silly like crying over coffee.

Marc comes down then, and they eat together, not rushed, quite, but not drawn-out and lazy like yesterday.

He’s heading out the door before the girls wake up, kissing Heidi thoroughly and clapping Rokia on the shoulder. He steps back before she has a chance to feel trapped and says, “I hear you might be leaving today?”

Rokia nods. “I think it’s best that way.”

Marc tilts his head, as if he’s not so sure. “Alright, then. You can come down any time you want, you hear?” Rokia likes this about them; the way they say things right out like that, nothing to read between the lines, hidden behind their eyes. Marc’s smile is contagious, and she returns it.

“Thanks. I’ll be back, just—I think they ought to get settled.”

Marc’s face goes serious and he nods. “Okay. Well you just let us know.”

“I will.”

He lets one hand fall on her shoulder, squeezes just a little. “You take care now,” he says, watching her.

“I will,” Rokia says, and looks away, sees Heidi leaning in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and smiling fondly.

 

The girls are down a little later, disappointed to miss Marc. Heidi laughs. “He’ll be back this evening,” she says, “Meanwhile we’re going to get you girls enrolled in school, see what-all you’ll need.”

Allie scowls. “We have to go to school?”

Heidi doesn’t laugh, but there’s amusement wrinkling the corners of her eyes, her mouth. “Sorry babygirl, it’s important.”

Allie sighs. “Fine, I guess.”

“And Rokia’s going back to town,” Heidi says. Now it’s Kadi’s turn to look upset.

“You’re leaving?” she says, eyes big.

“Just for a little while,” Rokia says, “I’ll be back, I promise.” 

Kadi looks unsure.

“Oh, come on, Kadi, she’s not going far,” Allie says, impatient.

“I know,” Kadi says, “But we just got here.”

“I know, Kadi,” Rokia says, “but you’ll be fine here with Allie—Alima—and Heidi and Marc.”

“I guess,” Kadi says, “but you’re coming back?”

“Yeah,” Rokia says, “I am, Kadi, I promise.”

Kadi sighs, says “Okay,” like she’s granting permission.

At the station Heidi gives Rokia a quick hug and tells her to come back soon, Allie hugs her stiffly and just says “goodbye” and Kadi clings tight until Rokia has to extract herself so she doesn’t miss the train.

 

Rokia sits next to the window and watches as the station disappears into the distance. She thinks about the last time a train took her away from her sisters and the sick feeling in her stomach rises until she’s stumbling to the bathroom to leave her breakfast swirling in the toilet. She’s lightheaded and shaking when she curls back into her seat, sipping water and trying to keep the mountains of Two in her head, the clatter of the intra-district trains not the smooth flight of the tribute trains to the Capitol, not the roar of hovercraft turbines. Quarry towns, she tells herself, Two. The war’s over, and she can call her sisters any time, go back whenever she wants to.

She calls Lyme once she gets closer to town and the signal’s good. “I’m on my way in,” she says, “don’t worry about picking me up, I can walk from the station.”

Lyme doesn’t ask questions, just says she’ll be at the house.

It’s a long walk up the hill to the Village, and Rokia’s breathing hard by the time she gets through the gates. It’s good, though, to feel the burn in her calves, the rasp in her lungs, so she keeps her pace quick until she gets to Lyme’s house.

She’s not sure what her face looks like, but Lyme opens the door and takes her bag and says “You look like you need to either sleep or spar.”

They’ve been sparring more, lately, it settles the itch that curls under Rokia’s skin sometimes better than mindless running or endless jobs in the shop, and Rokia’s exhausted but she’s not sleepy so she agrees.

Her reflexes aren’t the best and it seems pointless to try to block. She deserves every one of the bruises she’s going to get, deserves to let Lyme beat her into a broken mess, deserves to hurt, to be _punished_ for not being there when her family needed her, and Lyme gets one or two solid hits that feel good, feel right, before she’s standing straight and stepping back, eyes narrowed and hands dropping to her sides.

“Rokia, what the hell is going on?” she asks.

Rokia moves out of her defensive crouch. “Sorry, I’m just slow.”

Lyme doesn’t move. “Bullshit. This isn’t about punishment, kid. If you won’t hit back we’re done.”

Rokia shrugs. “I deserve it,” she says. “I fucked up.”

Lyme blows a huge breath through her nose and looks at the sky before she answers. “We’ve all fucked up,” she says, voice tight. “Plenty, believe me."

Rokia doesn’t move. “I got people killed.”

Lyme looks her in the eye. “So did I.”

“My sister hates me.” Rokia’s voice cracks and she hates herself for it.

“I don’t believe that.” Lyme says.

“Believe it. She told me she does.” Rokia crosses her arms across her chest.

Lyme runs her hand through her hair. “Come on, we’re going inside.”

Rokia throws herself onto the couch, curling up in the corner and scowling at nothing.

Lyme goes to the kitchen, comes back with an apple, a little wrinkled, probably from last fall. Tosses it to Rokia, who manages to uncross her arms quick enough to keep it from hitting her in the face.

“Did you eat breakfast?” she says.

“Yes, _mom_.”

“Did you sleep?”

Rokia looks away. “Maybe?”

“Rokia,” Lyme’s voice is a warning.

“I couldn’t sleep last night.” Rokia shrugs. She’s acting like a moody teenager, it’s ridiculous and she knows it, but she can’t bring herself to stop.

Lyme looks at her. “Okay,” she says, “Come on, let’s get some lunch.”

Rokia disappears into the garage as soon as her sandwich is finished, turning on the stereo and firing up the welder and blessedly losing herself in straightforward repairs that require little more than physical effort.

 

Brutus stops by in the evening, allegedly for repairs to his truck. Rokia kills the music and tries to pull herself together—a job made more difficult by the fact that she’s got machine oil down half her shirt.

Brutus doesn’t seem to mind, he just quirks an eyebrow and hands her his keys. She slides under the car to check the brake cylinders, so she doesn’t have to see him while she tries to figure out what to say.

“I think it’s going to work out,” she finally settles on, might as well get straight to the point. “Your folks are really good with the girls.”

Brutus pauses before he answers, and Rokia’s got the brake cylinder open so she can see where the drum’s rubbing so she doesn’t have to worry she’s said the wrong thing.

“I figured,” he says, “but that’s good.” Another pause. “You know they’ll have you out as often as you want to.”

“Yeah,” Rokia says, pulling the drum out and sliding out from under the truck. “They said.”

Brutus is half smiling as she climbs to her feet. “This is an easy fix, it’s just warped,” she continues, “I’ll have it done by the morning if you want to stop by.”

He nods. “Sure thing. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Rokia smiles and he heads into the house. She rubs her hands hard down her jeans to stop them shaking, because it’s stupid to be scared of Brutus, he’s not going to get mad and change his mind about letting her sisters stay. Still. She’s going to make damn sure she’s got his car running perfectly tomorrow morning. It’s just the right thing to do.

 

When Lyme drags her in for dinner she’s halfway done.

“You should get some sleep,” Lyme says, once she’s eaten.

Rokia glances at the clock, shrugs. “I want to finish Brutus’s car. It’s not going to take that much longer.”

Lyme looks up at the ceiling and sighs. They have this fight at least twice a week and it’s boring as hell but Lyme won’t quit and she refuses to get mad, she just keeps _pushing_ as though it matters what Rokia does with her time.

“Okay, but I’m not sleeping until you do.” Lyme says, finally, and Rokia groans, because seriously, they’re doing this _again_?

It’s almost midnight when Lyme walks into the shop and parks herself in a chair. She doesn’t say anything, just sits there watching so that when Rokia finishes all the things she can find to fix on Brutus’s truck, she can’t go hunt for something new to keep her busy.

Rokia looks over. “Fine, we can go to bed now,” she says, and Lyme stands up and smiles.

“Good,” she says, “You want to take your meds?” It’s almost always a choice, Lyme knows Rokia hates the sleeping pills, hates feeling groggy and fuzzy and strange, hates the very idea of needing them. So Rokia knows that when Lyme puts her foot down, insists that Rokia needs them, it’s really a last resort. She thinks about it this time, but honestly her eyes are drooping already and she’s tired enough she’ll probably sleep fine on her own.

She does, at least for a few hours, long enough that it’s light for once when she wakes up.

Rokia slips down into the shop before she can wonder what the girls are doing, whether Kadi had nightmares again, whether Allie will hate it here, whether they miss her, turns on the lathe and starts turning out pump housings

Lyme comes in late that morning. “Come on, Rokia,” she says, “I made breakfast.”

Rokia flips the switch, lets the lathe spin down, follows Lyme back to her house.Turns out Lyme’s made more than breakfast, there’s sandwiches on the table and a bag of peanuts and raisins and a whole pile of stuff sitting on the couch.

“What’s all this?” Rokia asks, looking around.

“We’re going camping,” Lyme says, grinning at her.

“What?” Rokia looks around. “Why?”

Lyme looks at her, exasperated. “Because people suck, so we’re going to go where there aren’t any for a while.”

“And do what?” Rokia asks, because really, they live close enough to the wilderness already, they’re going to go sleep in it?

Lyme just laughs. “You’ll see,” she says, and hands over a plate of scrambled eggs.

 

They go out along a path Rokia doesn’t know, but it’s clear enough other people must use it regularly. Lyme moves quick enough that Rokia’s breath starts coming hard and her heartrate kicks up but not so fast she can’t keep up. They don’t talk, just follow the trail until it comes out at a meadow, at the base of a long sweep of rock, stretching straight up toward the sky.

“We’re here,” Lyme says, barely breathing hard, and Rokia glares and decides she should probably run more.

“Here?” Rokia asks, looking around. “What’s here?”

Lyme jerks her chin toward the rock face. “Climbing.”

Rokia looks over at the rock face. “That?” she asks. It looks impossible, even if Sara used to tell her she was some kind of monkey-mutt when she was climbing the scaffolding at the shop. At least she’s not afraid of heights.

Lyme laughs, and it’s loose and easy and she’s grinning at Rokia with the lines of tension around her eyes smoothed out. “Yup,” she says, digging into her backpack. “It’ll be fun.”

She’s pulling out equipment, ropes and harnesses and stuff Rokia doesn’t recognize, and Rokia laughs a little. “What, the crazy Careers actually use safety equipment? I thought you fought bears with your teeth and jumped off mountains without parachutes.”

Lyme throws a harness at her head. “Sure we do,” she says, “but you’re not a crazy Career and I don’t want to get you killed just when we’re getting along so well.”

Rokia catches it and starts pulling it on while Lyme does the same, tosses a coil of rope over her shoulder and scrambles up a crack in the wall. There’s rings drilled into the rock partway up and Lyme runs the rope through and slides down.

Once Rokia’s roped in she moves over to the wall, running her hands up to find holds. Lyme made it look easy but it’s not, she’s fitting her fingers into cracks and her toes onto ledges and balancing her weight against the rock face. It’s a physical challenge and an intellectual problem and it occupies her completely and by the end of the afternoon her arms are shaking and she’s exhausted and she leans against Lyme while they roast hot dogs over a campfire.

Lyme smiles and pulls her close and when they finish eating she pulls out their sleeping bags.

“Really?” Rokia says, “It’s gotta be like nine o’clock.”

Lyme shrugs. “Did you have plans?” 

Rokia opens her mouth to complain, just on principle, but then she yawns, undercutting any point she was planning on making, and Lyme laughs at her. “Finally wore you out, huh?”

Rokia tries to glare, but she’s smiling in spite of herself so she just crawls into her sleeping bag.

Lyme kicks dirt on the fire and beds down behind her, not quite near enough to touch but close enough that Rokia can tell she’s there, and Rokia rolls over to face her.

Lyme’s lying on her back, looking up at the stars, and when Rokia looks up they take her breath away. Even when it’s not cloudy in Six there’s too much light to see more than the brightest stars. There’s still light here, a glow in the direction of town, but the stars shine out bright anyway. It stirs up strains of memory, old and long buried, sitting outside while someone pointed out the constellations. Grandma, it must have been, back when she only had to worry about doing her chores and staying out of the way. She looks up, looking for patterns, but whatever she learned is long since forgotten.

She looks over at Lyme and sighs, content and sleepy and safe between the cliffs and the one person who she knows really would kill anyone who tried to hurt her, and she looks back up at the familiar-unfamiliar stars and whispers “Thank you.”

She can’t see Lyme’s face in the dark but Rokia can tell she’s smiling when she says “Anytime, kiddo.”

 

Rokia wakes once in the night, gasping quietly out of a dream that fades into fragments as soon as she wakes. It takes long moments for her to remember where she is and what’s happening, but then she rolls over and Lyme’s watching her.

“You’re okay, Rokia,” she says, just a whisper of sound in the quiet night. “You’re safe.”

Rokia shifts over and fits her spine against Lyme’s side, Lyme’s hand coming up to run through her hair. She can feel Lyme’s chest rising and falling with each breath and the tension uncoils as her own breathing slows to match it.

She wakes again in the early morning, no shards of dreams just the light in her eyes, but Lyme is still sleeping, breathing slow and deep, and Rokia shifts down farther into her sleeping bag and drifts off.

Eventually though, the sunlight and the heat make it impossible to stay asleep and this time when she rolls over Lyme is watching her.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Lyme says, and it’s stupid to still be tired after sleeping for however many hours but Rokia doesn’t want to move.

She stretches, yawns, rolls her sore shoulders, and looks blearily at Lyme, who’s grinning. “Mmmm” Rokia says, “I slept so well.”

Lyme laughs at that. “Good,” she says, “come on, let’s make breakfast.”

Rokia’s starving, she realizes, her stomach finally waking up along with the rest of her, and she inhales scrambled eggs and toast while Lyme just keeps giving her amused looks.

They climb again until lunchtime, and as they pack up Rokia glances back at the cliffs enough times that Lyme tousles her hair and laughs and tells her they’ll come back sometime soon. It’s stupid to say goodbye to a bunch of rocks but Rokia thinks about it before turning to follow Lyme back down to the Village.

 

It would be nice if somehow a good night’s sleep and good food and 24 hours where nobody yelled at her and nothing was broken fixed everything. Rokia isn’t dumb enough to think the world works that way but still: it’d be nice.

But they walk back into Lyme’s house and Lyme sighs and goes over to look through the messages on her phone and Rokia grabs her things and hops on her bike and heads for the hangar in town because life goes on and hovercraft don’t fix themselves. The real world settles back on her shoulders with a familiar weight and Rokia looks around the shop and gets to work.

 

A couple days later a call comes in while she’s eating dinner with Lyme. Lyme passes her the phone, a strange half-smile on her face. “It’s Kadi,” she says, “she wants to talk to you.”

Rokia’s breath catches and she takes the phone. “Hello?”

“Rokia!” Kadi’s voice is thin over the phone lines, excited or nervous or both. “When are you coming back to visit?”

“I don’t know, Kadi,” Rokia says, suddenly nervous herself.

“You should come! I planted carrot seeds with Marc and I helped make supper and there are 22 kids in my class at school and we learned about met-a-morph-ic rocks.”

Rokia smiles. “That’s great, Kadi, that sounds like a lot of fun.”

“But it’s the weekend coming up and I won’t have school and I want to show you the garden and Heidi says it’s okay so you should come, please?”

There’s one name conspicuously absent from this conversation, and maybe she shouldn’t bring it up but Rokia asks anyway. “What about Ali—Alima?”

Kadi sighs, indignant. “She says she doesn’t care.”

Well, that’s not exactly an invitation, is it? But it’s not an outright refusal, either. “OK, Kadi, I’ll try to come down Saturday morning. Can you tell Heidi for me?”

“That’s great! It’ll be awesome, I’ll show you everything, I’ll tell Heidi you’re coming.”

“OK, Kadi, but I should go now, I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Yeah, okay, bye Rokia!”

“Bye Kadi, I love you, tell—“ Rokia breaks off, adjusts, “say hi to everybody for me.”

“Love you too, bye!”

The line cuts off and Rokia looks at Lyme, who’s leaning against the counter, watching her.

“You okay?” Lyme asks.

“Yeah,” Rokia says, taking a deep breath. “I’m fine. I guess I’m going back on Saturday.”

 

She sleeps badly enough the next few nights that she gives in and lets Lyme give her a sleeping pill Friday night. It means she’s groggy when she wakes up but at least she’s not shaking with adrenaline from yet another nightmare. Lyme drops her at the station and wishes her luck. She’s glad for the last lingering effects of Lyme’s drugs to tone down the panic that coils in her stomach, pulling the muscles in her shoulders, her jaw, her whole body tensed with it. It’s the worst on the train where there’s nothing to distract her, where she has to sit, still and waiting with both hands tight on her knees.

Heidi and the two girls are waiting at the station when she gets there, and Kadi grins and tackles her as soon as she steps onto the platform. Rokia’s arms come up around her and she returns and Heidi’s smile. Allie’s standing a little apart, and she’s not smiling but she’s not glaring either so Rokia disentangles herself from Kadi and says hello.

Allie glances at Heidi, then back at Rokia. “Hi Rokia,” she says, looking at her feet. Rokia doesn’t press, just smiles and lets Kadi chatter as they walk back toward the house.

When they get in Heidi turns to the girls. “Okay, do you girls have homework?” 

Allie and Kadi trade glances and then Allie nods. “Yeah, but—“

Heidi interrupts her. “No buts. Go get your books. You too, Kadi?” Kadi nods. “Me too,” Heidi says, smiling. “We’ll get that done first and then we’ll see what else we want to do with the day.”

Rokia smiles as the girls disappear into their room. Heidi looks her over. “You want to rest a bit? I’ve got accounts need sorting out.”

Rokia laughs. “It’s okay, I’ve got plenty to keep me busy. We all got homework, I guess.”

Heidi’s eyes narrow for a second and then she nods. “Guess so,” she says.

Heidi pulls out a stack of neat ledgers in careful handwriting and sits. Rokia sits across from her with her datapad and her ratty shop notebook. When the girls come back with their notebooks they sit, Allie next to Heidi and Kadi next to Rokia, and work quietly for a while until Allie sighs and drops her pencil, leaning back and crossing her arms across her chest.

“Math is dumb,” she says. “I hate fractions, they don’t make any sense.”

Rokia looks up. “Do you want me to help?” she asks, hesitant.

Allie glares at her. “What do you know? You quit school when you were my age. I shouldn’t even have to go.”

Heidi looks over. “Math’s important, Allie, what do you think I’m doing?”

Allie looks over. “Yeah, but not stupid fractions,” she says.

Heidi laughs. “Let me see,” she says, shifting over next to Allie. “Okay, look here…”

Rokia looks back down at her notebook and tries not to be jealous over math homework. But Allie’s worrying her bottom lip, writing carefully, glancing up at Heidi for reassurance. When she reaches the end of the page she looks up, triumphant, and flings her arms around Heidi’s neck.

“You’re the best,” she says, and Heidi laughs and hugs her back.

“Thank you, Miss Alima, that’s a sweet thing to say”

Rokia bites down hard on the inside of her lip and doesn’t, does not look up from the part file she’s working on.

 

Kadi finishes after a bit and starts looking over Rokia’s shoulder. “What’s that?” she asks. “Is it a robot? Can you build me a robot?”

Allie rolls her eyes but Heidi smiles. Rokia ruffles Kadi’s hair. “Sorry, kiddo, I don’t know how to build you a robot. We could probably find something else to build, if you want.”

Kadi thinks about it. “Okay, can you build me a car?”

Now Heidi chuckles, low and amused, and if they were back in Six Rokia would tell Allie to be careful or her eyes’d roll right out of her head. Rokia thinks about the hill down the road. “Maybe a soapbox car,” she says, “you could drive it down the hill.”

Kadi’s eyes light up. “Really, could we?”

Rokia glances over at Heidi. “Better ask Heidi,” she says.

“Please Heidi can we?” she asks, bouncing on her heels.

Heidi catches Rokia’s eye, raises one eyebrow. Rokia shrugs. “I don’t see why not, just so long as it’s safe,” she says, catching Rokia’s eye at the end. Rokia nods.

Kadi grins. “It’ll be the best, just wait and see.”

 

Marc gets the story when he comes home that evening, complete with colorful sketches and parts-labeled diagrams that Rokia and Kadi spent the afternoon drawing while Allie and Heidi baked bread with the ingredients Brutus sent along. He laughs, deep and booming, tousles Kadi’s hair and Rokia’s as though they’re both kids, and kisses Heidi with the honest pleasure Rokia still can’t quite believe. Allie gets a bear hug and she wraps her arms around his neck and he lifts her right off her feet while she giggles. He trades a coded glance with Heidi as he sets her down.

Rokia loses a long argument with herself that night, so she’s curled up by the door again when Kadi starts whimpering in her sleep. It’s quiet but Rokia jerks awake immediately, moving to the side of the bed without conscious thought. Kadi’s curled up with her back to the room and Rokia slides over to lean against the bed, reaching to run a hand through Kadi’s hair, down her back. Kadi doesn’t wake up, but she quiets, shifting to lean into the touch. Allie’s eyes flutter open and Rokia takes a breath, waiting for the explosion but Allie just smiles and closes her eyes, snuggling up closer to her little sister. She’s not really awake, but Rokia feels like she’s been given a gift all the same.

Heidi gives her a look when she comes down in the morning, slipping out when the siren wails. “Do you actually sleep in there?” she asks, “Or do you just watch them?”

Rokia flushes. “I sleep some,” she says, ducking her head. “I just like knowing they’re okay.”

Heidi smiles. “They’re going to be fine,” she says, “don’t you worry.”

“Alima seems to like you a lot,” Rokia tries to keep her voice even, but a glance at Heidi tells her she’s maybe not succeeding as much as she’d like.

“Well,” Heidi says, “She’s a sweet girl when she wants to be.” Rokia smiles at that. “She’s just trying to figure things out. It’s not been an easy couple of years.”

Rokia feels her face grow hot, “I know, I should’ve taken better care of them, I just—“

“Hey, no, babygirl, that ain’t on you.” Heidi’s looking right at her, intent, and Rokia has to look away. “It’s been hard for you for a long time, you’ve done the best you can.”

Rokia wonders how much she knows, what Allie has said and what news makes its way out here. She hasn’t seen the TV on, not once, so maybe Heidi hasn’t seen the worst of the gossip, the televised hearings after the fighting wound down, asking them all to flay themselves open for the cameras one last time. She never watched, doesn’t know whether they’re still broadcasting stealthily-captured photos with speculation about who she’s working for or sleeping with or what she’s wearing. She’d hope that people have better things to do than guess why she’s running around in Lyme’s stolen sweatshirts and her own baggy jeans, but who knows.

Heidi’s still watching her and Rokia’s not sure if she’s embarrassed or annoyed or what but she glances up and shrugs. “Wasn’t good enough though, was it?”

“Who told you that?”

“Besides Allie? Nobody has to.”

“Alima’s hurting,” Heidi says. “She’s confused and she’s angry and she’s putting that on you. You can’t make yourself responsible for everything that’s happened.”

“I was supposed to protect them, and I didn’t. She’s right to be pissed.”

Heidi turns back to pull the kettle off the stove and sighs. “It’s more complicated than that, Rokia,” she says. “But whatever happened, you’re here now and you love her and she’ll see that eventually.”

Rokia’s spared trying to answer when Marc walks in, kisses Heidi good morning, and runs a hand through Rokia’s hair, back to front, so that it stands out from her head like a corona. He grins at her and she can’t help but smile back, and the tension in her chest releases a little. Heidi cuffs the back of his head as she passes toward the table. “You’re impossible,” she says, and his grin spreads.

“You love me,” he replies.

Heidi looks over her shoulder and nods. “Sure do.”

 

They spend most of the day at an old quarry, long-since flooded to become a lake with water so clear you can see all the way to the bottom. None of them know how to swim, but it’s cool and the kids scramble around on the rocks and throw stones and sticks in the water to watch them sink. Marc and Heidi lie on the grass, her head on his shoulder, and they look contented and half-asleep and they’re watching the girls through half-closed eyes. 

On the way back they stop at the garden. Allie perks up then, walking over to a freshly raked patch of dirt. Kadi follows her and they stare hard.

Marc’s grinning as he comes up behind them. "You won’t see much there, not just yet. He gets down on his knees and points to a few tiny green shoots just coming out of the ground. “See? Here, and here.”

Allie’s face is wide open wonder as she reaches down to touch the threads coming out of the earth. “Really?” she says, quiet, “these are the ones we planted?”

Marc puts an arm around her shoulders. “Yes, ma’am, those are yours.”

Kadi’s bouncing up and down behind them. “They’re going to be _carrots_!” she says. Allie glances up at her, spell broken.

“Yeah, Kadi, they will,” she says, climbing to her feet. “C’mon, let’s go.”

 

Rokia walks her sisters to school Monday morning before taking the train back to town. Allie just shuffles her feet a little and says goodbye. Kadi flings her arms around Rokia’s waist, burying her face in Rokia’s chest.

“You promise you’ll come back?” Kadi whispers, tears leaving damp spots on Rokia’s shirt.

Rokia holds her tight. “I promise, Kadi. Next weekend, okay? And we’ll start building your car.”

That gets her a small smile. Kadi pulls away reluctantly, slipping her hand into Allie’s. “Bye, Rokia,” she says.

“I’ll see you really soon, Kadi, okay?”

Kadi nods, and Allie puts an arm around her shoulders and leads her into the school.

Rokia spends her time on the train making parts lists for Kadi’s car and noting where she might be able to source them. When she walks into Lyme’s she’s smiling, excited, and Lyme looks her up and down and smiles when she says hello.

 

They spend the afternoon climbing, and after dinner Rokia explains the soapbox car and how they’re going to build it and where she’s getting the parts and Lyme indulges her until she finally ruffles Rokia’s hair and says she’s heading to bed. Rokia hesitates. “I’m just going to put some of these orders in,” she says. “It shouldn’t take that long.”

Lyme gives her a look, assessing, but finally she nods. “Okay. Don’t stay up too late.”

Rokia rolls her eyes and grins. “Yes, _mom_ , I get it.”

 

She is only planning on putting in parts orders, but when she checks her messages there’s three from Matt, and suddenly she remembers, he’d asked for part files for landing gear components. She dials the number, embarrassed.

“Matt,” she says when he picks up. “I’m so sorry, I totally forgot about those part files, I was gone the last couple of days.”

“Oh, shit Rokia, I was starting to get worried.” Matt says, voice hissing through the patchy connection. “I didn’t know where you were and you weren’t answering so I wondered…” he trails off.

“No, Matt, fuck, everything’s fine, I just went to visit the girls and I don’t get signal out there.”

“Oh,” he says, pauses. “I guess—that makes sense, but damn, girl, you had me worried.”

Rokia sighs. “Yeah, sorry.

“Yeah,” Matt pauses. “How’re your girls?”

Rokia sighs. “Allie’s pissed as hell at me, Kadi’s gotta be attached to someone all the time, they seem like they like it where they’re at, but who knows.”

“Well,” Matt says, “It’s probably better there, we’ve still got rolling blackouts, it’s pretty sketchy.”

“Yeah,” Rokia says, “I guess it’s good. They’re with a real great family.”

“That’s great, Rokia. Glad that worked out.” And that’s Matt, all sincerity, even when he’s just scraping by he’s still glad for her.

“Look,” Rokia says, “I can get you those part files by tomorrow, I just have to get into the database, it should be in there somewhere.”

“That’d be great. Hey, you take care, okay?”

“Sure thing. You too.”

Rokia hangs up and puts her head in her hands. Shit, how stupid is she, haring off to play games with Kadi and run around on rock piles when there’s people counting on her. Three whole days, and she’s gotten pretty much nothing accomplished. Well, one cure for that. She spends a couple hours finding the files for Matt, then looks around, antsy. She can’t fire up anything here, Lyme’s got some kind of super-senses even when she sleeps, she’ll come down and make faces at Rokia until she goes to bed. But it’s not that far to the hangar, she can walk, there’s plenty to do down there.

It’s still cool at night and the walk is almost pleasant except for the thrumming impatience running through her, the need to _do something_ that doesn’t settle until she’s let herself in, brewed a pot of coffee, and flipped on the welder. There’s good, difficult work to be done, replacing body supports showing signs of metal fatigue, and it’ll take hours. Rokia’s maybe halfway done when she drops down to grab more angle steel and Lyme’s leaning against the scaffolding, arms crossed.

“So,” she says, standing up straight, “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“I seem to remember you saying you weren’t going to be up that late.” Lyme’s voice is neutral, conversational, and Rokia glares at her.

“I wasn’t. I had to deal with a thing. It happens.”

“Rokia, it’s five AM and you weren’t in the house. I was worried.”

You would think that getting through a fucking Hunger Games and a fucking war and everything else would convince people of your ability to take care of yourself, Rokia thinks. Like she needs people checking up on her now, when she never once has before.

“I don’t need you worrying about me,” Rokia says. “I don’t need you coming down here to drag me home to eat and sleep and tell you my feelings, I need you to let me do my damn job.”

Lyme doesn’t even flinch. “I’m not going anywhere, Rokia,” she says. “You might as well get used to it. And I’m pretty sure the country isn’t going to fall apart because you got a decent night’s sleep.”

“I got three fucking days off,” Rokia says. “I got shit to do.”

Lyme just looks at her.

“What?” Rokia says. “There’s about a million things wrong with this fucking country and most of them I can’t do a damn thing about, but I can make sure this craft doesn’t fall apart on landing, so I’m gonna go ahead and take care of that, okay?”

Lyme’s still just _standing_ there, watching her, and Rokia feels her hands clenching into fists. She’s got nothing in her hands but a fucking tape measure but it’s heavy duty metal and what the hell, she flings it hard at Lyme. Who snatches it out of the air without a word, and now Rokia’s pissed, what kind of fucking game is this, and it’s idiotic and pointless and Lyme’s bigger and stronger but Rokia walks right up to her and Lyme grins, sharp and mean, and drops into a fighting stance.

Matt is the one who taught her to throw a punch, out behind the shop with Sal a million years ago and just yesterday, and Rokia doesn’t care that she’d never really be able to land a punch on Lyme, she just needs her to _go_ , dammit, and apparently talking isn’t getting the point across.

Lyme lets her get a couple of hits in and Rokia _knows_ she’s holding back, barely even trying, but it feels good to hit something, feels like something unclenching in her chest, and she tries every dirty trick she’s ever learned and Lyme just keeps blocking the nastiest hits and taking the rest until Rokia steps back, breathing hard, to lean against the cold metal scaffolding and glare at her.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Lyme says again, soft, and she’s still just standing there, watching, and her hands twitch at her sides but she doesn’t move, leaves Rokia enough space to breathe, and Rokia looks closer and some of the skepticism fades.

“You know that makes you kind of an idiot, right?” Rokia says, crossing her arms across her chest, and apparently she’s also an idiot this morning because some things you don’t say out loud. But fuck it, here she is. “You know everyone who hangs around me gets fucked up somehow.”

“Rokia,” Lyme says, “There’s nothing anyone’s going to do to me I can’t handle.”

Rokia studies her face, ready to dismiss it as stupid sentimentality, but then again: this is Lyme, she’s a Victor and a mentor and she fought in a war and it might, just maybe, actually be true.

“Yeah, kid,” Lyme says, watching her. “Believe it.” Her voice isn’t nice, isn’t soft and comforting, it’s hard and unyielding and her grin is fierce and Rokia grins right back, nasty and sharp and doing nothing to hide the acid in her veins and Lyme reaches over to drop a hand, heavy, on Rokia’s shoulder.

“Now, for fuck’s sake, at least come eat some breakfast,” she says, exasperated and tired-sounding and fond, and Rokia laughs and follows.

 

 

It becomes a routine, taking the train to visit the girls on weekends, staying with Lyme during the week. It’s strange, actually, to have a schedule, to have work days and weekends, and the train crews get to know her and smile when she gets on and she learns their names and knows the escape routes and relaxes into the rattle of the wheels over the track.

Finally, after parts on backorder and missing tools, Kadi’s car is nearly finished. It’s a hot day and they’re sitting out in the backyard and Kadi’s grinning from ear to ear as the shape comes together. Rokia watches her as, tongue between her teeth, Kadi adjusts the steering cable tension with a monkey wrench. It’s hard, sometimes, to back off, to let Kadi fumble with her tools and drop things and bend nails. It’s a game, Rokia reminds herself, not a job. Kadi has never _had_ to do any of this—never had to struggle through a workday and a schoolday and scramble to put food on the table. She’s had Rokia, and when Rokia left she had Allie. Allie, who every once in a while looks out at them from the window where she’s helping Heidi bake bread for the week.Kadi waves at her, and Allie smiles back, flour brushed across her cheek.

They finish as it’s getting dark, and Rokia’s checking everything over one last time when Marc comes home.

Kadi’s been sitting on the grass watching, but she jumps up when she hears him.

“How’s it coming, Katydid,” Marc asks, as she launches herself into his arms.

“It’s great, it’s done, we’re going to try it out, Rokia says it’ll be _really fast_!” Kadi says, the words tumbling over each other. Marc sets her down and she takes his hand, pulling him over. He smiles over her head at Rokia.

Kadi shows him the car and Marc lets her explain everything, axles and steering and brakes and wheels and Rokia just watches, leaning back on her elbows in the grass and grinning.

“Rokia can we try it now? You checked, I did it right, can we please?”

Rokia sits up, looks at Kadi. “It’s getting dark, kiddo, we’d better wait till tomorrow.”

Kadi sighs. “Fine.”

Marc chuckles. “C’mon Katydid, let’s get you some supper.”

Rokia follows them in.

 

The next morning Kadi races through her breakfast and then looks over at Rokia. “It’s tomorrow, it’s light outside, can we pleeeeease try my car now?”

Allie rolls her eyes, Marc and Heidi smiles, and Rokia laughs. “OK, Kadi, let’s go try it out.”

“Yes!” Kadi’s up and out the door, and they all follow. Rokia helps her push the car around to the front of the house and partway up the hill.

“Okay,” Rokia says, suddenly nervous, as Kadi climbs in. “Push on the brakes for me, okay?”

Kadi’s eyes are wide and excited, but she bites her lip and her face goes serious as she finds the brake pedal. Rokia releases her hold on the frame but the car doesn’t slip.

“Okay good, now check the steering cables,” And Kadi shifts the steering, side to side. “Looks good,” Rokia says. “You can try from here first and then if it works okay we’ll start higher up the hill.”

Kadi grins. “It’s gonna be great, I know it,” she says, “we built the best car ever.”

Rokia steps away, takes a deep breath. “Alright, here we go.” Kadi flashes her a grin, takes hold of the steering cable and pulls her foot off the brake. The car rolls forward, almost imperceptibly, then speeds up until it gets to the bottom of the hill and flies on down the street. Rokia lets out a breath when it stops, and Kadi’s out of the car and running back towards Heidi and Marc and Allie, watching in front of the house. Rokia walks down to meet them.

“Did you see?” Kadi’s bouncing on her toes. “It was awesome!”

Allie’s laughing. “Okay, Kadi, it looked pretty cool.”

Kadi turns to Rokia, “I want to go from higher up! Let’s do it again!”

“Sure thing, Kadi, let’s go get the car.”

After two more runs Kadi goes up to where Allie’s been watching and asks, “Do you want to go?”

Allie’s smile lights up her eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Rokia pulls the car back up the hill, sneaking sideways glances at her sisters. Kadi’s explaining everything to Allie, who’s nodding seriously and paying careful attention. Allie looks up at Rokia, holding the car while she climbs in.

“You got everything?” Rokia asks, hesitant. “Check the brakes for me, will you?”

Allie does, Rokia lets the car go and it holds. “Steering seems okay?” she asks, nervous again.

Allie looks at her, “I got it, Rokia,” she says, “Don’t worry about me.”

Rokia just smiles back. “I’m your sister, I always worry about you,” she says, keeping her voice light, “but I’m sure you’re fine.”

Allie just sighs. “Okay then,” she says, “here goes nothing.”

Kadi runs down the hill to meet her, and when Allie climbs out she’s laughing, gives Kadi a hug and they start pulling the car back up together. Rokia sits down on the front step next to Heidi. “Looks like they’re having fun,” Rokia says.

Heidi looks at her. “You did good,” she says, putting an arm around Rokia’s shoulders and pulling her close. Rokia smiles, and watches her sisters laugh, and leans into the embrace.

By evening, Kadi’s telling Allie all about the second car they’re going to make and how it’s going to be even better and maybe they can have races, and Allie’s humoring her but she’s smiling, playing along. Once she looks over at Rokia with a smile and a shake of her head, and Rokia smiles back and shrugs and tries not to show how much it means.

 

Rokia’s getting ready for bed when she hears the bedroom door open and Allie walks out.

“Are you okay? Can I get you anything?” she asks, getting up.

Allie shakes her head and comes over, looking at her feet.

Rokia’s heart speeds up. “You want to sit?”

Allie glances at her, sidelong, nods. “Yeah,” she says, nervous.

Rokia sits next to her, leaves a little space. Allie turns towards her and looks up, holding Rokia’s eye. “I don’t hate you,” she says, looking away again. “I was mad. I was mad that you left and I didn’t want to come someplace new again and I didn’t know what to do and…” she pauses, gnawing on her lip. “But I don’t hate you.”

Rokia reaches out toward her, and Allie only hesitates a second before moving into Rokia’s arms. They sit like that for a minute while Rokia breathes deep, schooling her face and her voice into something like calm. “Thank you,” she says. “I’m really glad.” It sounds stupid, but she doesn’t know what to say.

Allie twists, looks up and smiles at her. “I’m glad you’re here,” she says. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, babygirl,” Rokia says, her grandmother’s voice soft in her ear, “I missed you so much. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get you sooner.”

Allie just shrugs and curls up against Rokia’s side. She’s still so long Rokia thinks she might have fallen asleep but finally she stirs. “I should go to bed,” she mumbles, sleepy. “Kadi won’t like it if she wakes up and I’m not there.”

Rokia stands, helps her to her feet, then walks to the bedroom door. Allie hugs her and Rokia bends to kiss the top of her head. “Goodnight Alima,” she says, and it still sounds strange to say but she’s getting used to it.

“Goodnight,” Allie says, and slips into bed next to her sister.

 

Rokia goes back, curls up on the couch and cries. It’s silent tears at first, but they give way to wracking sobs that leave her struggling to breathe. It’s ridiculous, things are _better_ , Allie doesn’t hate her after all and maybe she didn’t fuck up absolutely everything in her life so why is she crying now? But she can’t stop, huddled in on herself as the tears wash through her until the cushions behind her dip and she hears Heidi’s voice, soft and soothing.

“Oh, babygirl, come here,” she says, and Rokia turns towards the voice and something strips away years and years and _years_ of being strong and she leans into Heidi’s arms and cries like a child, Heidi’s strong arms around her. And her brain isn’t really forming coherent thoughts but what she thinks now is _safe_.

She’s not sure how long she cries, while Heidi holds her, rubs her back, runs fingers through her hair, and never once tells her to be quiet or to grow up. Eventually, finally, she’s wrung dry, and she should feel embarrassed but she can’t seem to come up with the energy. Heidi runs a callused thumb over her cheekbones, brushing away the last of Rokia’s tears, lets her blow her nose and pull herself shakily together. Rokia doesn’t want to let go, but she’s starting to fall asleep there on Heidi’s shoulder. Heidi just smiles, waits for Rokia to lie down on the couch and sits on the floor, one hand in Rokia’s until Rokia falls asleep.


	2. The Reaping Day that isn't

As the date approaches, Rokia can feel the tension in the Village ratchet up. Last year she was in the Capitol for Reaping Day, and while Paylor had declared it a day of remembrance Rokia had just laughed—as though the Reaping was something she wanted to _remember_ —and spent the entire 24 hours of it holed up in the shop so she wouldn't have to think about the fact that a year ago she'd left everything and everyone behind.

Here, nobody's said much, nobody's planning anything, but everybody knows what day it is. Lyme is quieter than usual, more tense even if she's trying to hide it. Rokia can't sit still. Not that that's particularly unusual but apparently it's enough for Lyme to come into the shop late one night and tell her to come home.

"So you want to tell me what's up?" Lyme asks, when they get to the house.

"Reaping day," Rokia says, then hesitates before adding, "would've been Allie's first year in."

Lyme lets a breath hiss through her teeth. "Oh."

Rokia smiles, lopsided. Nobody in Two knows what it's like, waiting, holding your breath and hoping it won't be one of yours called this year.

Except that's not true, not after the 75th. The Victors get it now, the helplessness that twists in your gut as you wait. Lyme looks over at her. "You gonna go down there?" she asks.

Rokia bites her lip. "I'm not sure," she says, "I don't know if they'll want me."

Lyme gives her a flat look. "Go,” she says. "They'll want you."

So Rokia calls Heidi, takes the train down to the quarry town that's already starting to feel like a second home. Marc meets her on his way home from work, dusty and tired but smiling. "Glad you're here," he says, face going serious, "it'll be good for the girls to be with you tomorrow."

Rokia smiles, surprised, but as they walk through the quiet streets some of the tension bleeds out of her shoulders and she takes deep breaths. Even the summer heat feels clean, dry and breezy, not like the muggy heat in Six that always felt like it was trying to smother her.

The girls are outside when they arrive. Allie's weeding their small patch of flowers while Kadi helps out between distractions. Kadi sees them first, runs to meet them and flings her arms around Rokia's waist, leaving dirty handprints on her shirt. Allie gets up more slowly, shy the way she always is. "Hi, Rokia," she mumbles, head down and eyes glancing up just for a second.

"Hi Alima," Rokia says, hearing her own voice go softer, the way it always does out here. Allie brushes her hands on her jeans before giving Rokia a quick hug.

"I think Heidi's inside," she says, looking towards the house. Marc heads for the door, and Kadi follows, but Rokia waits.

"Can you show me what you planted?" Rokia asks, unsure. But Allie's face lights up a little as she turns and kneels back down in the dirt.

Rokia doesn't recognize the flower names, but she watches Allie's fingers brush the leaves, ghost over the petals as she talks. Gentle, careful hands the color of the rich earth, and for a second Rokia pictures them bloodstained, broken, reaching, and she takes a deep breath and holds it until her vision clears.

Allie looks up at her, curious. "Are you okay?" she asks, and Rokia schools her face back to calm and tries to smile.

"Yeah, Alima, I'm fine," she says, and Allie looks down, disappointed. "What is it?" Rokia asks.

Allie shrugs, quick. "You can tell me stuff," she says, digging a butter knife into the dirt to lever up a dandelion.

Rokia freezes. Takes one breath, then another, watching Allie's hands as she works, her shoulders hunched. She sits next to her sister, digs her fingers into the loose soil, and steps off the platform. "I've been thinking about the Games," she says, and Allie's head snaps around to look at her. "Because of tomorrow."

Allie looks down, hands stilled. When she looks back up her eyes are wide. "Please don't leave," she says, all in a breath, like it escaped without her permission.

Rokia has to remind herself to breathe. "Oh, Allie," she says, "oh, babygirl, I'm not going anywhere."

"I always hated it when you left. Even…when we knew you were coming back. You left and Phillips left and Aunt Magda only wanted us because then she could tell people how important she was, getting calls from the Capitol and stuff."

"I hated leaving you," Rokia says, trying to keep the worst of the bitterness out of her voice. "Every time."

Allie looks over, smiles a little. "Here," she says, passing over another dull knife. "You gotta get the whole root or they come back." Rokia looks down at her hands and realizes she's torn the leaves off one of the dandelions.

They work for a while before Allie speaks up, eyes still on her hands as she works. "Were you scared?" she asks, quiet. "When you were in the Games?"

Rokia smiles at her, then looks back down. "Yeah, Allie, I was terrified."

Allie nods. "I didn't think you were scared of anything," she says. "You never seem scared."

Rokia can't help but chuckle at that. "I'm scared a lot, Alima," she says, remembering to get the name right this time.

"It would have been scary, wondering if they were going to pick me," Allie says, digging at another dandelion.

Rokia exhales hard. "I have nightmares about it," she admits. Allie looks at her, searching.

"Really?"

"Yeah. They call your name and there's nothing I can do about it."

"I would have won, just like you." Allie says it proud and determined and strong, and Rokia freezes, because those nightmares are even worse than the ones where her sisters die in the Arena.

It takes a minute before she can breathe, much less respond. "It's never going to happen now," she says, and it's still a miracle even if it's a miracle people died for.

Allie nods. "And that's why you went off to fight and stuff?"

"Part of the reason, yeah," Rokia says.

Silence again, then finally when Rokia thinks the conversation might be over, Allie takes a deep breath and asks, "Was it worth it?"

Rokia bites her lip against the laughter that rises, entirely inappropriate, in her chest. Was it worth it? She wonders, late at night when she's trying to sleep, when she jerks awake dreaming about Sal and the guys from the shop, Mom's face in the square, Phillips trying to walk across the damn hospital room, face lined with pain. But Allie is watching, sneaking glances at Rokia's face as she waits for an answer, and if nothing else she will never, ever stand on a platform while the clock counts down, and when the nightmares come they're about the past, not the future. So for today at least, "Yeah, Allie," Rokia says. "It was."

Allie nods, serious. Then she looks up at the house and smiles. "Heidi's watching," she says, "we should go inside."

They get to their feet, and Rokia can't help herself, she reaches for Allie and pulls her close. For once Allie relaxes into the touch, and Rokia holds her tight. When they separate, Rokia looks at Allie, really looks, at long limbs and strong hands and deep dark eyes and Allie—no, Alima, even if the Games are over, she's Reaping age now, and anyway she really isn't a little kid anymore. Rokia smiles, and Alima flushes a little. "Yeah," Rokia says, "let's go say hi."

 

Rokia will never get tired of sitting at the scarred wooden table in this room, eating whatever Heidi has pulled together, watching her sisters' smiles come every time easier. Never more than today, and if she's quieter than usual nobody seems to notice.When they finish eating and move to the living room, Kadi crawls onto her lap and leans her head on Rokia's shoulder. Rokia's arms come around her and they settle, content, as Alima pesters Marc until he pulls out his fiddle. Rokia's never seen music made right in front of her, and she's amazed that the simplemovement of the bow over the strings can make the instrument come alive. Kadi relaxes against her, but Alima's sitting straight, watching intently as Marc's fingers fly. It's late when finally Marc plays a soft, slow song and Alima sighs happily, leaning back against the couch cushions. He loosens his bow, wipes down the instrument, puts it carefully away, and sends the girls to bed.

"How're you doing," Heidi asks, as they're getting Rokia's bed made up on the couch.

Rokia shrugs. "Alright, actually," she says, "it's just… I dreaded tomorrow for so long, it's hard to believe it's really all over."

Heidi nods. "It really is," she says. She's pauses, then sighs. "For me it was 49," she says finally, "and then 75, of course." Rokia bites her lip, hesitates, and then asks.

"Alima asked me if it was worth it," she pauses, takes a deep breath. "Do you think it was?"

Heidi goes quiet, and Rokia wonders if she maybe shouldn't have asked. Finally Heidi sighs. "Wasn't sure a long time." She hesitates then, glances at Rokia and then back at the sheets in her hands. "But they saved my Brutus. And then I saw the hearings." Rokia flinches before she can stop herself, but Heidi's not looking at her, eyes on something faraway. "After all that, I'm sure." She shakes her head, looks Rokia in the eye. "I'm glad you're here, Rokia."

Rokia just nods, trying to fight the tears threatening to spill over. "Oh, babygirl, c'mere," Heidi says, turning to sit on the couch. Rokia gasps half a sob and collapses next to her, burying her face in Heidi's shoulder. For all that it cost and no matter if in the grand scheme of things any of it balances out, she's here and she's safe. Heidi knows her secrets same as the rest of the country and she's still sitting here letting Rokia get tears all over her shirt and Alima isn't standing for the Reaping tomorrow and maybe the grand balance doesn't matter so much as this for right now. When she finally runs out of tears Heidi kisses her head, gentle, and tucks her in like a child, and for the first time in a long time Rokia spends the night before Reaping Day fast asleep.


End file.
